


Love In An Elevator

by eeyore9990



Series: For Want of a Gag (Reflex) [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 04:31:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1212766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeyore9990/pseuds/eeyore9990
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1175856">Ruined</a></p><p> </p><p>  <i>"This is about burning up inside with want. Aching to be filled. About you taking all that careful, fine control you have and giving it to me. This is about me getting on my knees and giving you everything you want, and then you getting on your knees and taking everything you need."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Love In An Elevator

**Author's Note:**

> Oh god, I feel like I should apologize for the title. But nope. Sorry not sorry.

Stiles was losing time. He didn't remember leaving the club or even much of the club...before _and_ after Derek showed up and destroyed his world view. All he knew was that they were here now, pressed up against the side of Derek's Toyota, grappling for dominance of ... He would call it a kiss, but it was wrong to think of this as a kiss.

Kisses were things full of promise and light. They were for people like Scott and Allison, people who were sweet and maintained a sense of innocence. This was dark and biting and if Stiles had any question about a werewolf's ability to suck out his soul, he'd have run for his life years ago. This was so much more than a kiss, and less at the same time. 

When Derek tried to flip their positions again, Stiles growled low in his throat and bit Derek's lip, grabbing his wrists and pinning them to the window Stiles had him pressed against. 

Whipping his head back, he stared at the drop of blood that beaded on Derek's lip. "What are you trying to prove, Derek? That you're stronger than me? Hell, we both know that. But that's not the point." Pressing himself flush against Derek, he ground their hips together, letting the darker part of his nature rise to the surface. "This is about burning up inside with want. Aching to be filled. About you taking all that careful, fine control you have and giving it to me. This is about me getting on my knees and giving you everything you want, and then you getting on your knees and taking everything you need." 

Derek's tongue came out, swiping up the drop of blood that had gleamed so beautifully under the parking lot lights. "You make it sound like this is all about me." His eyebrows lowered in judgement, and Stiles laughed. 

" _I_ get to test my lack of gag reflex and fuck you 'til you cry. Win-win!" 

In a move designed to push all of Derek's buttons, Stiles moved in as if for another kiss, then turned his head at the last minute, slowly dragging his cheek along the length of Derek's and up, until his nose was buried in the thick black hair behind Derek's ear. Which incidentally put it in a perfect nibbling position. Taking the lobe of Derek's ear between his teeth, Stiles bit down gently, running the tip of his tongue over the very edge. As Stiles expected, Derek shivered, and a low noise broke the silence between them. 

"Here's what's going to happen," Stiles murmured, letting his lips brush Derek's ear with every word. "We're going to get in your vehicle and you're going to drive us to your loft. I would, but I had two drinks and I don't want anything stopping us from what we both know is going to happen. Especially not my dad or one of his deputies. 

"When we get to your loft, we're going to go upstairs and you're going to take off every piece of clothing you're wearing. I don't want anything in my way. And then I'm going to make good on my promise." 

Derek's voice was ragged when he asked, "Which one?" 

" _All_ of them." 

_\--_

The drive to the loft was mercifully short and eerily silent. Derek didn't say a single word, which wasn't entirely unusual, but neither did Stiles. Stiles instead spent the entire ride staring at Derek, letting his eyes linger on every bit of him, from the hands opening and closing almost nervously on the steering wheel to the place where his pulse beat visibly in his neck. Stiles allowed himself a smirk every time Derek's gaze cut toward him, and he knew, however odd it was, that he was throwing Derek off balance. 

After years of being on the other side of that equation, it was nice to be the disconcerting one for once. 

When they pulled up out in front of the loft, Stiles waited for Derek to cut off the engine before he asked, "Why me? Why now?" 

Derek's jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth before popping open his door and sliding out. Shrugging, Stiles did the same, and walked behind Derek all the way to the elevator, appreciating the view of Derek's ass in those jeans. 

He had to stop and adjust himself when the knowledge that he was about to have full access to it hit him all over again. 

When Derek glared at him over his shoulder and snapped, "Are you coming," Stiles just offered up his most shit-eating grin. The eye roll he got in return told him Derek was well aware of the _thousands_ of innuendo-laden come backs he had prepared for that loaded question. 

The elevator was ancient, so slow that the stairs were often the better option. It was poorly lit with recessed lighting that flickered ominously, giving it a perfectly creepy atmosphere. Following Derek into the small elevator car, Stiles waited for the doors to creak closed before he crowded Derek into the darkest corner. 

"Change of plans," he breathed, then slid to his knees. Looking up at Derek from beneath his lashes, he said, "I'm going to pull you out and you're going to fuck my face. You can set the pace, but you have to come before the elevator stops." 

Unbuckling Derek's belt, he let the leather end slap against his cheek hard enough to mark it and fluttered his eyelashes. He swallowed a grin at how quickly Derek moved to help him with the button and zip after that, his eyes gleaming and blue in the dim light. In the span of mere seconds, Derek's cock was bared to Stiles, thick and uncut with a dark thatch of hair. Leaning forward, Stiles turned his head, sliding his lips down one side until his unmarked cheek scratched over the rough teeth of Derek's zipper. 

"F-fuck," Derek hissed, rubbing over the tender skin with his thumb even as Stiles parted his lips and sucked Derek's entire length into his mouth. 

Stiles knew the picture he must make, both cheeks abused, reddened lips stretched wide and glistening with spit, his eyes open and locked on Derek's as he opened his throat and sucked. He slid his hands around behind Derek's ass, gripping it and urging him to move his hips. Pulling off for a second, Stiles whispered, "Show me how you want me to fuck your ass later." 

A bitten-off sound was his only warning before Derek's hands were gripping his head, holding it steady as he _pounded_ his hips against Stiles' face. Fighting against Derek's hold, Stiles tilted his head just enough to keep his nose from being broken against Derek's abs and then just moved with the pace Derek set. 

A good ache built up in his jaw, the kind that only came from a proper face fucking, and Stiles couldn't hold back a moan of purest pleasure. The vibration of the sound against Derek's cock and the grip of Stiles' throat around the head of his cock was apparently too much, because Derek hunched forward, holding Stiles' head in place as his cock swelled and pulsed his come down Stiles' throat. 

There wasn't even time for Stiles to get his breath back before the elevator let out a too-long ding to announce their presence at Derek's floor. Slowly rising to his feet, Stiles stared into Derek's glazed eyes as he swiped his thumb over the corner of his mouth, wiping away some moisture there and said, "Excellent timing." 

**Author's Note:**

> Stiles still has more to do...Derek's world isn't quite rocked yet. Stay tuned?


End file.
